


Safe Space

by only_one_dnp



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Established Relationship, Kind of angsty, M/M, also deals with some very lowlevel homophobia, early phan, it wasn't intended to be but i apparently can't help myself
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:01:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22026745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/only_one_dnp/pseuds/only_one_dnp
Summary: Having Phil in the same house as his parents constantly feels like two completely different worlds are colliding in the weirdest ways- and one of them doesn't even know about it. But nothing makes Dan feel worse than having Phil hear some of the things his parents say when they think it's okay.
Relationships: Dan Howell/Phil Lester
Comments: 6
Kudos: 63





	Safe Space

Dan can’t stop the tension that fills his body when he hears the front door slams shut.

He hates it. He hates that his dad coming home makes his stomach twist so sharply he almost feels nauseous. He hates that he finds himself glancing over at Phil and silently praying to whatever God there may be that his dad doesn’t say _something_.

And he especially hates that he could never fully articulate any of it to Phil, at least not without admitting how his dad feels about certain subjects.

How his dad would feel about _them_.

He straightens up a little too quickly, barely missing knocking his head on the cupboard he’d been going through, and holds up some biscuits. He can here his dad loudly complaining about the _laziness_ and _stupidity_ of some guy at work.

“Custard Creams,” Dan says, his voice sounding distant to his own ears, and Phil looks up from the two cups of tea he’s making to glance at him. “Custard Creams are good tea biscuits, right?”

“They’ll do,” says Phil, but he smiles and Dan can hear the jokiness in his voice. It lessens the tension just a bit.

He returns the smile as Phil carefully puts the kettle back down, and then reaches over and takes one of the cups of tea. “I’m not letting you carry both of these. I like my floors un-tea-stained, thanks,” he jabs, elbowing the other boy softly.

“Hey!” Phil whines, even as he moves out of Dan’s way. “Tea stains are- they’re vintage, they’re _stylish_ , I’ll have you know.”

“Oh, sure,” scoffs Dan, leading the way towards the stairs. He’s just about to step onto the first step, just about to decide that everything actually turned out okay after all, when a line from his parents conversation seems to pierce through the air.

“He’s a ponce, I’ll bet you anything,” his dad huffs, and Dan feels something in him go very cold. “Tell you what, though- if I get lucky, he’ll probably end up with bum cancer before the year’s up, save me some trouble.”

And then his mum is responding with some vague platitudes, and it takes Dan almost a second too long to remember that he’s holding a cup filled with hot liquid.

He steadies it before more than a drop hits the floor, and slowly forces out a breath.

There’s a million and one things going through his brain as the comment settles in, but the primary one is- _Phil_.

_Does he turn around? Will that bring attention to it? Does he pretend he didn’t hear it, or that it didn’t happen? Maybe Phil never noticed-_

But that’s dumb, because even if Phil didn’t notice the comment, he sure as hell would’ve noticed Dan’s reaction. And Phil isn’t like Dan- Phil is comfortable, he’s open, he’s _out_ and _accepted_ and he wouldn’t be used to hearing that stuff, so it would be harder for him, more of a shock to the system.

Dan turns around an apology already on his lips, but to his surprise, Phil looks more concerned than distressed by it. The apology seems to die out.

Phil offers him a small, comforting smile. “We should head up stairs,” he suggests, his tone gentle, and Dan knows what he’s actually saying- _we should get away from here._

He nods without saying anything, and has to use actual effort not to run loudly up the stairs for fear of alerting his parents to the fact something is wrong. He makes sure to go as slowly and casually as he can into his bedroom, where he puts down the cup and biscuits only a little too hard.

He hears Phil quietly closing the door behind them, probably following his lead, and something in his chest aches painfully.

“I’m sorry,” he says, the words tumbling out of his mouth as he turned around. “I’m sorry about that, it’s not- it’s just-“

He cuts himself off. It’s not anything. It’s dick-ish. And unfair.

“It’s okay,” says Phil, in a tone that would almost have Dan believing him if he didn’t know for sure that it wasn’t. “Some people… are like that.”

“But they shouldn’t be,” says Dan, and his voice is quieter than he would like, but he can’t change it. “It’s not fair- I’m sorry that you had to hear that. You don’t deserve to hear that.”

“Neither do you,” says Phil, his tone still even and light. “Nobody does. But it happens.”

“That’s a dumb excuse and you know it,” huffs Dan, irritation flaring in his chest, but he steps closer to Phil in spite of it. Or maybe because of it.

“These things take time-“

“To learn not to be an asshole?”

“To adjust to different world views-“

“You can’t just excuse this stuff because you want to be nice, letting jackasses be bigots never made the world any better,” Dan snaps, before immediately regretting it, but Phil looks unphased.

“I’m not excusing it,” he says, his tone still infuriatingly _okay_. “I told you, you don’t deserve that. But I’m not upset about it, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“I’m- I’m-“ Dan lets out a frustrated breath. “Of _course_ that’s what I’m worried about,” he says, and his irritation leaks out into his tone. “I don’t want you to have to deal with that, ever, especially not in my house-“

“I don’t mind,” says Phil, and then he catches Dan’s hands. The contact seems to ground him, separating him from his slew of angered thoughts. “I mean, it sucks to hear that stuff, yeah. But it’s kind of outweighed by getting to see you-“

“You’re a cheesy bastard,” grumbles Dan.

“Anyway, I’m more concerned about you. You have to deal with this all the time.”

Dan wants to deny it, but he can’t. He tightens his grip instinctively. “I…” he falters, the words seeming to get stuck in his throat. It makes him feel agitated, unstable, and he finds himself mentally reaching out, grasping towards the angry thoughts- “I want you to feel accepted in my house, like I do in yours,” he begins, but then Phil shakes his head, cutting him off.

“How do you feel?” He prompts gently, tugging Dan just a big closer. “I want to talk about _you_ with all this. How do you _feel_?”

Dan hesitates again. “I feel- I-“ he tenses up, and then, as if controlled by some force outside himself-

He shoves Phil backwards into the door, hard enough for the other boy to make a startled sound, and then their lips are together and Dan kisses him with everything he has. It’s angry, hard, aggressive- _desperate_ \- every part of Dan wants Phil like it wants air, his hands curling into Phil’s chest like claws, their bodies pressing together like they could merge into one, hearts beating almost in unison, and Phil is kissing him back, rough and messy, Phil’s hands are in his hair, Phil entire being is pressing back against him, and they’re both being too harsh to be skilled, but it feels better than any practiced kiss could possibly be feel-

And then Phil pulls away, chest heaving, and he has to repeat himself several times before Dan can fully register that he’s speaking.

“ _Dan._ ”

Dan leans towards him, instinctively, but Phil’s hands tighten around his head, holding him back, and the older boy gives the tiniest shake of his head. It does nothing to dampen the smugness Dan feels looking at how dazed and rough Phil looks, knowing _he_ did that. “What?” He asks finally, and his voice is lower than usual.

Phil swallows. “Not that I don’t… also want…” He clears his throat gently, and his cheeks tinge just a little bit red. “We should talk. About what happened. Properly, I mean.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” says Dan, and it’s more honest than he thought he’d be, and he rests his head on Phil’s shoulder, tucking his nose into the crook of Phil’s neck. He can feel the older boy’s breath hitch, which gives him a nice sense of satisfaction, but unfortunately Phil’s inherent stubbornness has yet to give up.

“We still should, though. At least a bit.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say.” Dan’s voice is just a little muffled by Phil’s skin, and it makes him feel better than it should. Everything about Phil makes him feel better than it should.

“Can I ask questions, then?” Phil asks, and his fingers start tracing shapes down Dan’s bare arm.

There’s a long beat before Dan responds. “Okay,” he says, softy.

“How long has he been saying stuff like that… openly?”

“My whole life. He’s usually very open and accepting about most things. Just not… this.”

“Has he ever considered… you?” Phil asks, and Dan can tell he’s deliberately trying to avoid using the word in his house, and that alone makes him feel almost as bad as the entire concept does.

“No,” he says, too fast, and then he huffs softly and feels Phil shiver beneath him. “Never to my face,” he says, and his voice is quieter this time.

Phil makes a soft humming sound. “I don’t think he would say that stuff if he had,” he says, and Dan doesn’t bother disagreeing. A few seconds pass before Phil speaks again. “It pisses you off that he says that stuff.”

It’s not a question. “Yes,” Dan says anyway.

“Does it… always piss you off?” Phil asks, and this time he sounds more curious. “Only… you kept pushing your anger onto… me being here. Does that make it worse?”

The idea of Phil making anything worse makes Dan straighten up out of surprise, but he can’t deny it. Not fully, at least.

“I’m used to it,” he says, honestly. “The more I learn to… be okay with this, the worse it is to hear him say that stuff. But having you here… it makes me feel-“ he pauses, struggling to find the right words, and Phil gives him a moment. “Ashamed,” he says finally, even though that still doesn’t feel like the right word- but it’s close. “I don’t want you to hear that stuff. I don’t want you to be around it.”

They stay in silence for just long enough for Dan to think he’s said too much, when Phil lets out a long breath. “I get that,” he says, gently. “There’s certain things… I want to protect you from. But it’s not realistic. Not… long-term.”

Dan doesn’t know whether he should be more thrilled about Phil trying to protect him or the suggestion of a ‘long-term’, but he forces himself to focus on the conversation anyway. This is the time to stay in the moment.

“You’re the one place on earth where all of this doesn’t exist anymore,” he says, as honest and open as he can, and Phil grins at him, his face lighting up.

“Good,” he says gently, finally letting his fingers lie still. “I want to do that for you. I want to… be that for you.”

“You are.”

There’s a few seconds of silence, but this time they’re both drinking it in, too busy existing to speak.

Finally, Phil sighs gently. “Is this what you want to do?” He asks curiously, raising his eyebrow. “Stand here awkwardly against the wall while our tea gets cold?”

Dan knows Phil is suggesting they sit down on the bed, finally get round to those movies they were about to watch. He also doesn’t care, and there’s a flair of confidence building up in him.

“I want,” he begins slowly, his voice dropping lower again as he locks eyes with Phil, “to be with you right now. Just you. No house. No family. No dickheads.”

“I am a pretty amazing person, but I don’t actually have the power to make a whole house disappear,” says Phil, and Dan can’t tell if his dedication to being sly and making Dan spell things out was more frustrating or endearing in that very moment.

He choses endearing, for his own sanity, and leans back into Phil, so their chests touch. “I want to lock the door, pretend no one else exists, and just be with you- openly.”

Phil’s mock-innocent façade slips into a grin, and Dan hears the lock click softly before the other boy’s hands come up to cup his face. “That, I think I can manage,” he says, before pulling Dan towards him-

Their mouths collided messily, a blur of heat and movement and sparks where their bare skin occasionally touched as they tugged awkwardly at each other’s clothes-

And this time Dan breaks it, just briefly, letting Phil slide down to start pressing kisses to his shoulders. “But quietly,” Dan says, already breathless. “Openly, but… quietly. Obviously.”

“Obviously,” agrees Phil, voice muffled, and a second later he pulls his own t-shirt over his head and tosses it aside.

Dan takes advantage of his brief distraction to press their lips together again.

 _Together._ However quiet or subtle they were… they were still doing this. And he didn’t feel a single ounce of shame, whatever his father might be saying downstairs.

He didn’t need to.

He tries to think- think back to the stuff he’s read online, about depression and anxious feelings and dealing with all the bad stuff in life. There’s a word- two words- that always comes to mind when he thinks of Phil.

 _Safe space_.


End file.
